


Day Off

by Chaneladdict



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, There are wigs and bullets involved, girls helping girls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3430403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaneladdict/pseuds/Chaneladdict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt: “You were chased by the cops, got in my car and just yelled ‘Drive!’” AU Jemma &Nat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribeninja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribeninja/gifts).



> A little unlikely pairing for this little girl power moment.

_Day off, Day off, day off._

It might have been her chant of choice since the day before, hell since the month before. She finally had a day, all to herself, to do as she pleased she thought as she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel in time with some god awful pop song on the radio. She was happy, she had slept late until seven whole am, and still had made perfect use of her day thus far.

No tactical gear, no sweaty layers of bullet proof spandex, no men giving her orders or longing looks thinking she didn’t notice.

No, just a free day to do and be herself. Well, _this_ version of herself anyway.

And this version liked to get her hair done, and liked to get her car waxed, and a few other places waxed too. You never did know when the next time you’d be called upon to take a mission in butt-fuck nowhere for six months and a Natasha was always ready. If Mother Russia had the girl scouts, she would have made the best one, even Steve said so,and she was pretty sure he was an actual boy scout at some point in time. Instead of the girl scouts they had the Red Room which was kind of like that, but instead of cookies you had murder.

Okay, so maybe not the _same_.

Deep in thought as to how many badges she would have earned if the horrors of her childhood had provided such things, whilst stuck in a seemingly endless traffic jam, she saw her. well, she heard the scuffle, and then this skinny girl with free flowing long brown hair booking it down the street – behind her were six cops, all of various size not one of them fit enough to catch the waif in the wind.

 She thought nothing more of it as the traffic took off again, only to stall less than half a mile at another pointless traffic light. She didn’t jump as someone knocked her window; her doors were locked of course. And she looked and saw it was the waif, red in the face, her hair askew, but it was her, same build, same clothes.

 _Hm_.

“KNOCK, KNOCK. I know you, Agent Romanoff, and I really rather _need_ you to let me in!!!”

The lights changed, and she considered driving off for a split second, but she couldn’t do that. This girl, she clearly needed help, and she clearly knew her and that was both  
intriguing and annoying.

_Did covert ops mean nothing to this world anymore?!_

She popped the locks and in she hopped.

“DRIVE, DRIVE, DRIVE!!!”

As the door closed it was hit by a stream of bullets, and before taking another breath, Natasha floored it and took off as the street was filled with the sounds of a helicopter  
overhead, and the screech of her tires.

They had made it three miles, six backstreets, and a detour and double back to the docks before either of the finally spoke.

“I need to go to the docks.” The preppy girl ordered softly, fidgeting with her mangled cell.

Natasha nodded and proceeded in the direction she knew would take her to the Port of LA, in the most roundabout way possible of course. It would take, she estimated thirty  
minutes, with good traffic flow.

“So sorry for this, but when I recognised your number plates, and realised… well, you’re my angel.” Came the breathless chirping of the politest English accent she had heard in  
some time.

“First time anyone’s called me their angel. I _know_ you.” And as she got a better look, of course she did. Agent Jemma Simmons, Level 5 clearance, Science department, one of  
Coulson’s kids, there was another one, curly hair and a nervous disposition. Since when were they clearing the geek squad for field work?

“I change my plates twice a week, how –“

“Coulson, we’re kept abreast of all alias changes, vehicle changes, and clearance level upgrades. Never really thought we’d have much use for that study but hey ho, suppose he  
was right as always.”

Nat just narrowed her eyes at the insanely upbeat passenger. Considering she was almost swizz cheese with a side of bullets, it made little sense.

“Care to tell me what the hell just happened?”

“Right, yes, of course. Silly me. Well, _basically_ I infiltrated a lab in East Los Angeles, as per my mission perimeters, and well, it well rather …. Cockeyed.”

“Uh huh, how so?”

  
“Well, my comms were melted by the lasers, there was a robot thing that I’m pretty sure was very angry at me, and that in itself is a worrying find, because really, he was a robot  
and robots don’t actually HAVE emotions, I mean if you ask Fitz he’ll say –“

“Simmons!?”

“Oh, right, sorry.” She took a breath. “Anyway, long, long, long story short it was a secret undercover branch of hydra, and they have cops on the pay roll of the LAPD – Fat unfit  
ones thankfully for me, but also ones with access to a helicopter and well, after that it won’t be long until the scarier happier to comply ladies and gents will probably be looking  
for me too.” Natasha wasn’t sure the girl took another breath for the entire sentence.

Good God.

“And … why is that exactly?”

“Uh, because of this?” with that she unzipped her jacket, exposing a very sweet and not at all threating looking sweater set, of course hidden under it was a belt filled with  
microchips and a vile of liquid.

“Simmons did you get into my car with an explosive strapped to your chest mid a sea of flying bullets?”

The girl, _woman_ , Natasha often felt three times her actual age at times like these, realising the woman next to her was only a few years younger, managed to look guilty.

“Yes,” she pinkened, “honestly though if it wasn’t for you being where you were I would probably be in a million little particle pieces right now, it’s highly –“

“I know what it does. What I don’t understand is _why_ you took it?” She had seen the results of a smaller vile of the materials two years before in Osaka. She fought the shudder  
that wanted to run through her bones.

“For Science, Miss Romanoff. Miss Widow?” Yes she said that with a complete straight face. Maybe she could introduce her to Steve, Natasha thought offhandedly. “Anyway, we’veonly ever seen the aftermath of what this does. Never have we actually had the materials in ones possession before. If we can get this to the lab and see what, for the lack of a better pun, makes this tick, then we have the upper hand.”

“And how do you figure that?”

“Because we can make more and use it against them.”

Natasha closed her eyes and put her head on her steering wheel. It was no wonder SHIELD had gone tits up, it was filled with lunatics.

“Miss Simmons, remind me never to introduce you to Tony Stark.”

The brunette’s eyes widened.

“Oh no, I would be _much_ too nervous to meet him. He’s my –“

_God, please don’t say ‘idol’._

“Well, I admire him and his genius very much.” She was now completely pink in the cheeks and if Natasha wasn’t so annoyed she might have found it endearing. But no, she was  
just annoyed at her ability to seem completely harmless in her peter pan collared shirt and sweater set, and loafers. Loafers for goodness sakes, she ran from the cops in loafers.

God, where did Coulson find these people.

Probably the same place he found her, she mused.

“What was in place in terms of extraction?”

“Pick up point is a boat actually, I think. He wasn’t clear. God I hope it’s a boat? My communications device was, as I said … melted and the obese hydra cops shot a bullet  
through my cell phone.”

Obese cops, a far cry from the Winter Soldier.

“It was new too…” she frowned. “My phone, I have this awful habit of losing or melting or accidentally dropping my phone into a batch of –“

“Miss Simmons, where are the rest of your team?”

“I don’t under- “

“They sent you on this mission alone, with no back up?”

“Yes.”

She just cocked a brow at her, telling her everything.

“Well, no. Sort of? I mean I was just meant to observe the base. I wasn’t actually meant to go inside, but then I thought –“

“Oh hell –“

“No, please Miss Roman… _widow_ I just you see I’ve been out in the field and I really was handling myself, you know before all the,” she gestured with her hands, “Melting things  
and such.”

She found that hard to believe.

“That so.”

“Yes it is so, I was undercover at the Hydra HQ for _months_.” She spoke then with more confidence, even if she was biting her lip. She could tell she scared her, but she was used to that reaction. How HYDRA hadn’t ate that girl alive, she’d never know.

It wasn’t so much that it said ‘HYDRA HQ’ on the door, but these days Natasha mused, they may as well have for all the fucks they give on staying unseen. It unsettled her. They  
weren’t in the shadows any longer, less so since the Helicarriers, their statements were big now, bolder than what went down in Washington, they weren’t waiting anymore for the  
good guys to find and destroy them, and they were showing off.

If there was anything Natasha hated more than a show off, it was an evil show off.

It had kept her, the rest of the Avengers, and the remaining loyal and sane Agents of SHIELD on their toes to say the least in the months previous. It was why she was so looking  
forward to a day off.

She had heard a helicopter overhead, so she pulled the car into the nearest alleyway.  
“What are you doing?” Jemma asked and Natasha just rolled her eyes, getting out and going to the trunk. Two vests, a loaded glock, two wigs, and a change of plates later, she  
was back in the car with a very in awed looking Brit.

“You did all of this in … four minutes. I don’t think I can get dressed that quickly let alone find us a disguise – oh can I be the blonde?” she asked, distracted reaching for the  
blonde wig. Pulling out of the alleyway, driving at normal speed, and generally passing for another couple of friends on the packed roads, they made it to the port, to the location that Jemma had given, to find the boat.

Or rather to find the remains of a flaming wreck.

“Uh, oh. _Lordy_. Oh no, no, no. this is not … this is THE extraction point. I … they are ON that boat.” The brunette began to panic as they stood and witnessed the flames firing  
higher and another something or other exploding.

Natasha’s heartbeat increased, but, she willed herself to remain calm. Coulson was their director now, as hands off as he was with the Avengers, for good reason; it was of course only her and Clint that even knew he was alive. But she remained loyal to what was left of SHIELD for the time being, and that meant being loyal to him, to his team, and to, apparently frantic scientists.

She went to the trunk again, retrieving her AHM scanner, scanning for human or alien activity amongst even the hottest of materials – thanks Stark.

No signals. No organic material detected. Human, animal or even plant.

The noted most of the boat’s cargo consisted of metals.

“Pack up your bombs and wig Miss Simmons, we’re going on a little road trip.” Natasha deadpanned.

“Where… where are we going?”

“We’re taking you home. Now get in.”

She sighed.

So much for her day off.


End file.
